Shadows
by ElricGurl
Summary: It was just Shadows... Shadows moved… that's all it was...Right? Rated T for now may change that rating later. This contains Ocs
1. Chapter 1: Shadows

America blinked, and for a moment, he thought he'd seen something… Something that disappeared from view as soon as it appeared. Not thinking much of it, and deciding it as being a trick of the light. After all what else could it be? It was just Shadows... Shadows moved… that's all it was...Right?

He didn't think much about it as he moved on down the hall towards the meeting he had. He was running late. Letting out a curse, he resigned himself to the annoying fact that he'd be late. Again. Being late drew the wrong kind of attention, and that was something he did not want.

As of late, Shadows darted back and forth during the day, making him jump. And at first he thought maybe it was his health or his eyeglasses prescription. Except he was in perfect health and his eyes hadn't changed from the last time he checked. And He knew he wasn't crazy.

And This hallway seemed far too long for America's taste. But, Hero's were brave, but right now, part of him wanted to be anything but a hero. He walked as briskly as his legs could go, without running, not that his dress suit would allow him. It weighed him down and restricting any quick movements he made. And His briefcase, rattling as he moved certainly didn't help. Not to mention that it was broken and he needed to get it fixed.

Another shadow moved past the corner of his eyes. Then one after another until his paranoia won out. He started to run his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He continued to the meeting running faster and faster until he came to the end of the windows where the natural light ended. Stopping dead in his tracks he hesitated at the precipice of the line of shadows. The room he needed was just on the side.

He arrived… running a hand through his hair he let a small chuckle, and grinned to himself at his own silliness. It wasn't real, it's just shadows right? Only children were afraid of shadows. But here he was fearing something so silly. He could do this. It wasn't that dangerous, just some dumb shadows. Right?

Walking to the door of the room he needed he took a breath, forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply. And as he moved to open the door it opened for him revealing his twin nation. Canada looked up blinking in confusion and gave him a once over.

"...America…?" Canada questioned, visibly concerned for the man. "Are you okay?" America's breath halted he looked down at his brother nation.

"Oh, yeah i'm fine dude." Canada wouldn't understand, America thought it best to keep it to himself. Besides, it's not like there was anything there.

"Then why are you out of breath?"

"I ran."

"You ran?... Why?"

"Oh uhh, Thought I was running late."

"Oh… Well I was just coming to find you, we arrived at the same time so I was wondering why you were taking so long."

"Well thanks dude, glad you care, but i'm the hero there's no need to worry too much!" He blurted out, hoping that his fake confidence held up.

America found himself seated beside some random nation of which he didn't know the name of, not a person who often talked to him but at least it wasn't Cuba. Or Russia… Or China.. Or Well any other multiples of nations that hated him, or was it their governments that hated him? He'd really lost track at this point.

Most of the meeting went as well as one would expect, but for some reason those shadows never left his thoughts during the meeting. He sat there at the table for a time, just taking notes he wouldn't remember later. His mind emptied out, as his body took over responding to all the little things that needed him. And it ended as soon as it began, due to him running on autopilot, he'd given probably the best speech he'd ever give.

Moments passed one after another until he saw England moving to leave, and it jogged him from his all consuming thoughts. And for a brief moment he thought about asking him about it. But then he'd be admitting that the man's fairy tail friends existed. And that was the last thing he wanted to admit. It'd be fine, he hoped.

He got up and left the room, disappearing into those lonely shadows of the hallway.

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**Wow this is great! I finished chapter one! I never finish anything. Please do tell me what you think. Believe it or not I do want to know what you think, so please leave me a comment.**


	2. Chapter 2: Lost

**Chapter 2 Lost**

America jolted up in bed with a start, a mix of pain and confusion washing over him. Huffing out a sigh, he slowly ran a hand from his forehead to his jaw. Noting the dull aching all over his body, he frowned to himself. Whatever had happened to him last night had put him through the wringer. He remembered leaving the meeting room in a haze, but that was about it. Everything after that remained a blur. It hurt to push himself to recall any more than that.

Absolutely Refusing, to think anymore about the night before he let out a small groan, and looked over at the clock that told him to get ready for the day. Pulling himself up to his feet, he absent-mindedly groped around the nightstand table for his glasses. Grabbing them, he cleared away the crust from his eyes with a rough rub of his fingers, slid them on and made his way to the bathroom so he could slowly prepare for what the morning had in store.

Thirty minutes, a shower, and a panic induced deep dive search of the room later, America had given up on finding his phone. It wasn't under the bed, nor was it on or in the nightstand. He'd checked his suitcase, the pockets of the monkey suit he was wearing yesterday, the top of the bed and under the pillows. By this point he resigned himself to his phone-less fate for the day.

This was going to be a long day, he felt bitterly. Wiping his face one more time from top to bottom he proceeded to wrangle himself into his monkey suit of the day. And by golly gosh, he was going to wear his wacky pizza socks, even if they socially massacred him.

Looking at the clock for the millionth time that morning he realized he'd be late if he didn't get a move on, that and the complimentary breakfast would end soon. And as much as America hated running late, his stomach would come first. Not like the others would have much sympathy if he did arrive on time hungry. Better late than never right? But at this point, due to his pain, he really didn't give a damn. He'd at least be earlier than some nations that he wouldn't name.

Something in him, gave him reason to pause at the door. A deep all encumbering anxiety-like feeling running through him from his head to his toes, shocking him to his core and freezing up his muscles. Like the day before an obviously tough battle that you knew some of your friends wouldn't come back from. It left you twitchy, somber, and bitterly grim. It was an all too familiar feeling that America had learned to put away. That feeling had its own little box he would deal with later. But it never stopped shocking him. The way it came on fast and sudden, with no rhyme or reason. It stunned him, but he knew better than to baby it. If you allowed it to, it would eat you from the inside out, leaving you a shell of the man you once were, he'd seen it happen before.

But he knew better, his eyes moving quicker than his body, he turned to scope the room for the fleeting shadows that haunted his every waking moment.

"Nothing there." he thought aloud, scoping the corners of the room for movement.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he scrubbed, the area where the bridge of his nose met his forehead with his fingers. He really didn't have time for this. Putting the feeling away, for now he reminded himself to smile and be happy. Hero's were proud, bold, and never frowned in public.

He'd put _those feelings_ in a box, and not think of it till it re-opened.

Opening the door to his hotel room briefcase in hand, he shut the door with a soft click behind him. Looking up he saw France, with a messy amalgamation of papers a cup of what smelled like coffee, and a briefcase on the man's raised knee.

"Oh, Hey dude, Good morning." America greeted with a smile and a wave. France looked up from the papers in hand and returned the smile.

"Good Morning Amérique. You're running rather late for your standards. Is something wrong?" He questioned, stuffing the papers into the briefcase messily.

"Yeah….. This is not my day dude. Things just keep going wrong. But atop the shit pile would be that I lost my phone. I looked everywhere. Nothing, natta. And in looking everywhere I'm now late. I hope the free breakfast is still open. But I've rabbit trailed enough for one conversation."

"Do you want me to try calling it for you Amérique? It won't make your day any better, but it might help." France said, pulling his own phone from his pocket. " I just hope I still have your number." He mumbled to himself.

"France I could kiss you! But I won't." America said boisterously.

" I accept all forms of gratitude, and public displays of affection. If you wanted to, I wouldn't dream of stopping you." France commented with a wave of his hand and a lazily charming smirk across his face. Whilst France was looking through his phone, America turned back to the hotel room's door, opening it with a wave of the hotel room card. Inviting France in the man took a good look around the room as he stopped in the middle of it.

"You certainly did turn it...Topsy-turvy as I've heard you say before Amérique." America made a face at that but didn't comment on it. France held his phone to his ear as it rang. It rang and rang and rang until it went to voicemail.

"Voicemail... Amérique, are you sure it's on?" France said, sliding his phone back into his coat pocket.

"It's on otherwise it would've gone straight to voicemail, but thanks anyway dude." America in earnest. They turned, leaving the room and shutting the door behind them.

"De rien, Is is on silent?"

"I never put it on silent. I'm very proud of my theme song." America quipped with a proud smile.

"Your ringtone is the Star Spangled Banner, isn't it?"

" Yup! Anyway, I'm gonna hit up waffle house if you want to come with France." America offered walking down the hall just a bit.

"Merci, but I have something to do before the meeting." An evil glint in his eye, France smirked, as they got onto the elevator. America pressed the first floor button, while France hit the third floor. America noted it, but again didn't say anything.

"Weren't you going to eat at the Free breakfast downstairs?" France questioned, opening the briefcase, shuffling the papers in his hands and counting them and making sure of the order.

"Yeah, I was but I can sense that is just gonna be one of those no good, terribly awful, horribly unpleasant, kinda days. So I'm gonna hit me up some waffle house instead. Why are you going to the third floor?"

"Ahh... Well Amérique that's a secret now isn't it." France replied, chuckling to himself as he exited the elevator. Looking at France as if he had grown a second head, America scoffed to himself as the doors closed behind the man with the silent hum of machinery. Since when was the last time France kept a secret? The man blatantly displayed his thoughts on his face, and well, in his body language also.

And suddenly the air that had filled the atmosphere around America previously, had left when the Personification got off the elevator. The shadows seemed to seep further into his bones as he rode the elevator down, reminding him of his physical pain once again. And all he could focus on, was the spider like feeling, that crept up all over his skin like little fingers. It sucked out all the air and life that filled him and suddenly he felt so terribly lonely and cold. He felt like the spider fingers had ghosted their way up his clothes and were loosely hung around his neck, squeezing tighter and tighter by the moment until he couldn't see. It all went black for a few horrifying moments, he felt as if he was drowning in a cold sea of darkness.

And then the elevator dinged at its arrival at on the First floor. And he felt exhausted, his breathing short and ragged, his body reminding him that he still ached all over. Forcing himself to move forward, he crossed the room and exited the hotel. _**HE**_ was _**The Hero**_, he wouldn't allow something as dumb as this defeat him. Shadows and meetings be damned, he would have his pancakes, bacon, and a sorely needed pot of black coffee.

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Wow so this took forever…. Drop me a comment if you're feeling generous it motivates me to write more.

I will not be putting full, other language sentences in this fiction. I figure that words like, Thank you, please, you're welcome, and any other instinctively polite "_shotgun"_ words, would be in said countries home language. Unless it's in another alphabet I will not be putting translations.

My thanks to "HelloThereHowAreYou" for commenting on the first chapter. Because of you I made chapter two, I hope you enjoy it.


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